Category Archives: Soul Survivor

Today I present a song that I’m sure the majority of you are familiar with in one form or another. I say that with confidence because as hip hop and other sample-based electronic music came prominently onto the scene over a decade after this track’s initial release, this extended vamp by James Brown and the JB Orchestra has gone on to be one of (if not) the most-sampled recordings in history.

However, if you’ve never actually listened to “Funky Drummer” in its entirety you certainly should, as it is a rhythmic expression of pure joy, and an exceptional one at that!

Recorded on November 20th, 1969 at King Studiosin Cincinnati, Ohio, “Funky Drummer” was originally released as a two-part 45 in March of 1970. In the period between 1965 and 1975, Brown had 65 songs in the R&B top 40, and 44 of them reached up into the top 10. Over on the pop charts for those same years, Brown had 37 top 40 hits, 6 in the top 10 (Sisario, 2011). As “Funky Drummer” only reached No. 20 On the R&B charts, it was somewhat of a forgotten tune before being revived with its aforementioned prevalence as a sample. With this revival came its first album release, in its 9:13 full-on funk form with the 1986 compilation record, In the Jungle Groove.

In The Jungle Groove

James Brown introduced the world to his “funk-bag” when, incorporating second line feel and “The One Beat” into his R&B sensibilities, he “subordinated harmonic development and traditional pop song form to the increasingly dense rhythmic fabric of the groove” (Doleac, 2013). And groove it does!

(photo by Dan Quest Studio, 1969)

Every now and then a clear harmonic cry gave new suggestions

of a tune that would someday be the only tune in the world and

would raise men’s souls to joy.”

– Jack Kerouac, On the Road, Part 3, Ch. 10

Can you not feel that joy?— as the band—flowing along with the little forward hops of “Sweet” Charles Sherrell’s bass and the ring-a-ding-licks of Jimmy Nolen’s guitar revolving within the slow-pour carnival of Brown’s organ while the intervals of Maceo Parker’s tenor saxophone sway out from the interlocked click-clack-grace of Stubblefield’s drums and the reliable swagger of the other horns (Eldee Williams, Fred Wesley, Joseph Davis, Richard Griffith)—all together perform a nimble side-step out from the gyral patterns of rhythm and finally succumb to James Brown’s insistence that they:

Turn Over

Turn Over

Turn Over

Soulful Rover

Take me in the change

Take me in the change

Take me in the change

They land right back in that loop, but it’s different. They make a deft somersault in place (nothing too flashy); one that surreptitiously takes the ground beneath their feet with them so that even though the whole world has turned, you might have missed it if it weren’t for that sudden swell of elation. James Brown once said of himself…although he wasn’t truly talking about himself at all:

“JAMES BROWN is a concept, a vibration, a dance. It’s not me, the man. JAMES BROWN is a freedom I created for humanity.”

JB drummer “Jabo” Starks has said, “So many things that were done weren’t written, because you just couldn’t. You couldn’t write that feel. Many, many times we’d just play off each other, until James would say, ‘That’s it!’” (Weinger & White, 1991). J.B.’s’ trombonist Fred Wesley would later say “The first rule when you went to work for James Brown: watch James Brown” (Weinger & White, 1991). This rule is demonstrated by the song’s most celebrated moment, which arrives roughly four and a half minutes into the recording and which supplies the tune with its namesake. James Brown tells the band: “Fellas, one more time I want to give the drummer some of this funky soul we got going here.” Brown then turns his attention to eighteen-year-old drummer Clyde Stubblefield, who modern drummer extraordinaire Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson has called “the most effective drummer that James Brown has ever utilized” (Sisario, 2011). Ever in charge, always directing traffic, James Brown soulfully suggests: “You don’t have to do no soloing, brother, just keep what you got… Don’t turn it loose, ’cause it’s a mother.” And with that, break beat history will be made!

There is nothing demanding about this tune, there is no challenge put before you. You get the sense that they could do it all day and never get bored; somewhere, after the fade-out, the group is still vamping along. It’s easy. It’s all simply an invitation for you to strut your stuff, feel good and go for a stroll—and if this doesn’t help you stroll on over to the other-side of this frost-coated mid-week hump, then I don’t know what will.

As a bonus—for those interested in learning a bit more on how a 7th grade drop-out raised in a whorehouse in Augusta, Georgia went on to become Mr. Dynamite, then Soul Brother No. 1, before eventually being hailed as The Godfather of Soul—here’s Jeremy Marre’s excellent 2003 documentary for PBS’s American Masters series: James Brown: Soul Survivor.